


it's my dog, she's taking my dog!

by deadbrave



Series: hbo war ditties [1]
Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Unexplained Time Travel, characterization mildly piss poor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadbrave/pseuds/deadbrave
Summary: an explanation for the disappearance of the dog that crawled into leckie gang's foxhole in ep 2 & a fix-it for poor nix getting his dog snatched away from his ex-wife. inspired by my brother. there's time travel involved but it's not explained, nor do i care to explain it.
Series: hbo war ditties [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080623
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	it's my dog, she's taking my dog!

_She’s taking everything. She’s taking the house, she’s taking the kid, she’s taking the dog. It’s not even her dog. It’s my dog, she’s taking my dog!_

There was nothing in this world that Hoosier loved more than dogs. Truly, they were the most majestic of beasts and should be put on a pedestal above humanity like cats were by the Egyptians. Maybe Hoosier was just saying this because the sweet creature had crawled into their foxhole while they were being bombarded with artillery seeking shelter, maybe it was because he missed his own dog back home. He’d enjoyed waking up to the pup the past couple mornings, wrapped around the warm fur, not even bothered by the added heat to the already miserably hot temperature of the island. That was, until, one morning Hoosier woke up to find that the dog that he had christened Scout, was no longer lying beside him. The pup wasn’t in the foxhole at all, nor could he be found around the rest of the camp. Hoosier was so forlorn and dejected that he could only return to the foxhole and slump down with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders.  


“What’s wrong, Hoos?” Chuckler approached his friend with a furrowed brow, munching on some disgusting looking rations.  


“Can’t find Scout anywhere. I just hope he’s okay.” It could not be said that Hoosier pouted often, but he was certainly doing so now. Chuckler leaned down to snatch his own blanket up and wrap it atop Hoosier’s on his friend’s shoulders.  


“It’s okay, Hoos. I’m sure he just went home--you took good care of him so that he could.” 

“Where’d you get that dog, Lew?” Dick paused mid report, fingers hovering above the keys of his typewriter. It was hard not to be distracted by the sound of an animal running through the house claimed by regiment, paired with the soft whistles of a man most often too drunk to make any sort of noises, let alone ones of happiness. It was nice to hear, but it was slightly concerning to Dick. Nixon walked backward and peered into the doorway with an expression similar to that of a cat who’d caught the canary.  


“Nowhere special. The South Pacific, of course. Had to replace the one that my ex-wife stole. Obvious logic, really.” With Nixon, you could never tell if he was joking or being serious, his tone was so even and dry regardless of the situation. Though there was a hint of amusement lingering. Dick only could roll his eyes and let out a huff of a laugh--he chose not to believe the ridiculous story posed by the Captain.  


“Alright, Lew. Just make sure you clean up whatever messes it makes.” Winters shook his head and got back to work, disbelieving at the nonsense that his friend always involved himself in. At least now he may chill out about the dog his wife stole.


End file.
